


hella obsessed with your face

by spraycansoul



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Bitty has lowkey Issues, Communication, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, JUST A LOT OF CUTENESS OK, Jack is a photography dork, Light Angst, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 12:50:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9272558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spraycansoul/pseuds/spraycansoul
Summary: Bitty rolled his eyes at him. “I’m not a model, Jack.” He shrugged, pulling his knees in and staring at his toes. “I just woke up, for goodness' sake! I probably look like a mess,” he grumbled, wincing when he felt the sleep in his eyes as he rubbed them. “I’m not like you,” he added quietly as he finally looked back up at Jack.OR: the one where Bitty is a little insecure, and Jack is very sweet





	

**Author's Note:**

> ok so this was a super old fic that i wrote years ago for something else, but i repurposed it for zimbits cos it worked so here we are! this deals with self-esteem and (heh) body issues, nothing too heavy, but if you're sensitive to that kind of stuff, this might not the best for you. it's also extremely fluffy, so there's that.
> 
> title is from ILYSB by LANY

He awoke to the sound of clicking.

Somehow, the noises didn’t startle him. Sure, they mildly irritated him, maybe confused him for a bit there, but he wasn’t angry. He was more…..nervous than anything else. He knew where the clicks were coming from, and he wasn’t sure how to make them stop.

And boy, did he want them to stop more than anything else in that moment.

After a lengthy debate with himself, he finally decided to open his eyes. They adjusted to the morning sunlight that was streaming in from the window behind him, silhouetting his boyfriend's figure. Jack was kneeling on the floor then, his eyes hidden behind the camera he was holding. _The things that boy does for a good angle_ , he thought to himself, trying his hardest not to smile. 

The clicking stopped abruptly, he had noticed. Slowly, Jack moved away from his camera to look at him properly, and immediately, his blue eyes lit up.

“Please don’t hate me,” Jack said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Eric sighed deeply, burying his face into his pillow. “You tire me. And I just woke up,” he groaned, flipping over on his other side so that he wouldn’t have to look at him. Jack was devastatingly handsome in this light, even with his sleep-rumpled hair and marks on his face from the sheets, and Bitty wasn’t sure his poor heart could handle it.

He heard Jack let out a deep sigh, followed by the soft sound of what he suspected was his camera hitting the rug. This alarmed him—he knew full well Jack’s equipment did not come cheap, and he would not be able to live with himself if he found out it was partly his fault a camera got broken.

“Was that the—”

When he adjusted his position to face him, he felt Jack’s cold hand on his. He intertwined their fingers, and Bitty almost instantly forgot what he was going to say.

“Warm,” he announced, holding their hands up. Bitty's were small compared to his, but somehow that’s how they fit together just right.

He shook his head, looking at him pointedly before directing his attention to the fallen camera on the rug. “You better get that before I get a hold of those pictures,” he grinned devilishly.

“You wouldn’t.” Jack's eyes narrowed at him.

Bitty scrambled to the floor behind him as best as a freshly-woken person could and grabbed the camera before Jack could get to it. “Try me,” he taunted as he waved the camera in the air.

“Bits.” Jack’s tone was pleading—desperate, almost.

“Jack,” Bitty mocked, pouting at him. He held the camera behind his back, as if that could actually keep it away from him.

As if he could read his mind, Jack rolled his eyes and tackled Bitty back on the bed, poking at his sides until he was reduced to a sleep-rumpled bundle of giggles and the camera easily fell into Jack’s large hands. “Hah,” Jack said in triumph, rolling off the bed to wave the camera in the air like a prize. “More protein, Bittle. I keep telling you.” 

Bitty laughed out loud despite himself, burying his face back into the sheets. “You cannot seriously be chirping me right now,” he said, his voice muffled but tone amused, but all laughter disappeared from his mind when he heard it again. _Click, click, click._ Ugh.

“Okay, you need to stop.” Bitty sat up with a jolt, shaking his head and reaching for the camera again.

Jack put the camera down and paused to study his expression. “Why?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. 

Bitty rolled his eyes at him. “I’m not a model, Jack.” He shrugged, pulling his knees in and staring at his toes. “I just woke up, for goodness' sake! I probably look like a mess,” he grumbled, wincing when he felt the sleep in his eyes as he rubbed them. “I’m not like you,” he added quietly as he finally looked back up at Jack.

Jack’s brows furrowed, his mouth set into a hard line. He set the camera down on the bedside table and studied Bitty from where he stood, his eyes soft and searching.

Bitty could feel Jack’s eyes on him like a lazer pointer, tracking every freckle, every dip and curve of his body. He was always self-conscious, always on edge about his body. Years and years of people telling him things that were wrong with him had drilled that into his system. Sure, he was lithe and fit and he could outskate anyone on his team without breaking a sweat, but he didn’t particularly love that he was short, or that he could never put on enough muscle to really bulk up. His freckles were weird and uneven and _everywhere_ , his left big toe was bigger than his right, his eyes were a dull, boring brown. At best, he thought he was mind-numbingly ordinary. And yet here he was, sitting in front of a 21st century Greek god cut from marble, and he was looking at him like he had hung the moon.

It didn’t make any sense.

“Bits, you’re gorgeous.”

Bitty snorted at the idea. Cute, maybe, he could pass off at certain occasions, but gorgeous? He wasn’t even on the same boat as gorgeous. He wasn’t even on the same map.

Jack’s frown deepened even more at the sound, and Bitty felt the mattress sink beside him, Jack's body heat radiating through the few inches between them. “I’m serious. Eric,” he said, and Bitty looked up at his name. Jack only used his first name when he was being very serious, or very cute. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” Jack’s blue eyes pierced into his, daring him to believe him. 

Bitty felt his blood rush to his cheeks then, every single one of Jack’s words landing tingles in his scalp. “Honey,” he said carefully. “Have you looked in the mirror lately?” 

“The mirror?” Jack laughed lightly, shaking his head. “You know what I see in the mirror?” he asked Bitty with no heat in his tone. When Bitty raised an eyebrow at him, he took it as his cue to continue. “I see this anxious chubby kid trapped inside a body that looks like an exact replica of his dad, just not nearly as impressive. It’s been years and I still don’t know how to work its parts like normal, off the ice, at least, because I’d grown so used to the image that the media had painted of me when I was younger.”

Bitty’s face fell at the realization. “Oh, sweetheart—”

“No, Bits, let me finish. That’s what I see in the mirror, but years and years of therapy and Shitty and _you_ have taught me that there’s so much more past that. I—” Jack took a deep, shaky breath, and Bitty reached out to clutch his hand. “I used to fucking hate the stretch marks, did you know?” 

Bitty shook his head no, unable to trust himself to form coherent words. They’ve been together for years and they’ve talked about this, but it was usually the other way around with Jack at the forefront of the self-esteem issues, and Bitty to pepper them away with kisses.

Jack barreled on anyway. “Yeah, I did. Couldn’t stand them. It was almost as if they were there to remind me that the body I was growing into wasn’t really me.” Jack winced, but recovered with eyes and tone bright. “And then Shitty came along, calling me all these profane variations of beautiful, and then you, with your constant affirmations and your pet names—I just got tired of denying it to myself, you know? Kinda makes you listen.” 

Bitty could feel the tears welling up in his eyes, and he silently willed them not to fall. He pulled Jack’s hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles instead. “I love you,” he said, because nothing else seemed appropriate.

“I know,” Jack smiled at him warmly, and his chest felt like it could explode. “I love you, too. And I love your freckles,” he said, nosing at Bitty’s exposed shoulder. “And your neck.” He felt Jack’s eyelashes at his nape. “And your cute button nose.” Jack kissed the tip of his nose and rested his forehead on Bitty’s. “And your fucking gorgeous eyes. God, I could stare at you all day,” he added, waggling his eyebrows for good measure.

Bitty couldn’t help the giggle that escaped out of his lips—the warmth in his chest bubbling up so much, it was too much to contain. He felt the tingles in the tips of his fingers, the swoop of falling in his stomach, and the ultimate feeling of rightness became too hard to ignore. He surged forward, only briefly registering that he had just woken up and his breath probably reeked, before Jack met him in the middle for a sweet, lingering kiss.

After, when they’re both breathless and their grins are stupidly wide, Bitty can’t help the words that tumble out of him. “I’m still not a model."

Jack pulled away but kept his hands cupped around Bitty’s cheeks, stroking them gently. Bitty could tell he was trying hard to read him, and so he tried his hardest to keep his expression blank. It would seem he was failing, though, because he could sense another one of Jack’s incredibly sexy grins tugging at the corners of his lips. His eyebrows raised slightly, and he braced himself for what might as well be the Cheesiest One-Liner of The Century, because Jack Zimmermann was a hopeless romantic at heart.

“You know, you may not be a model,” Jack started, leaning into him again, stopping just a breath away, “but you’re still my favorite.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! wasn't sure how to approach this since it's kinda a sensitive thing and i don't usually do Sensitive Things but i just feel like it's important to note that this obviously didn't fix Bitty's perception of himself, just like how Jack still sees himself as this broken kid, but more of like the start of how he gradually learns to accept his imperfections and love himself despite and because of them.
> 
> come yell @ me about hockey gays, i'm @zimmerhomme on tumblr!!


End file.
